The tavern was quiet, which wasn’t surprising considering how early in the day it was. Jabez had taken them to an establishment down the street from the Weary Wayfarer. A few barflies populated the long wooden bar that ran along one wall, and a young barmaid was making a half-hearted attempt at sweeping in front of the hearth.

Jabez lead Corwin to a table and waved over the barmaid, who approached with a bored and sullen air. “Yeah? Kitchen ain’t open yet, there’s some porridge on the coals but I wouldn’t trust it.”

“Flagon of ale and two cups.” Jabez said, rapping the table as he sat, grunting as he tried to make the chair meant for humans comfortable for his short and broad frame.

The barmaid looked over the two of them. “Bit early, don’t you think?”

Jabez stopped fidgeting and scowled. “Who are you, my mother? Just get us a drink, girl.”

“It’s eight bits, coin first.” The girl said, folding her arms and scowling right back at the surly dwarf. Jabez turned to Corwin expectantly; Corwin sighed and handed over the silver crown. The barmaid snatched it up and bit the coin. She nodded to herself, like it passed some sort of test. “How much you want back?”

“Whatever’s left.” Corwin said, knowing the girl was angling for a tip, but he wasn’t in a particularly giving mood this morning.

The barmaid frowned and stalked off. Jabez coughed a laugh. “You’re just making friends left and right today, kid.”

“I don’t need friends. I needed that apprenticeship.” Corwin muttered. “No one told me you needed your own gear, or years of experience, or a recommendation or whatever.”

“Yeah, dirty little secret of this business.” Jabez grunted, scratching his coarse black beard. “They say anyone can be an adventurer, but the reality is a little more complex. Used to be you just grabbed a big stick, jumped down a hole, fought whatever was down there and if you were still breathing at the end of it you got a few coins tossed your way. Now there’s politics, ranks, all that rot. Not something I was ever inclined to get involved in.”

“But you are in the Guild, right?” Corwin asked, hoping he had not made a horrible mistake.

Jabez nodded. “Yeah I think I’m a Rank Three Master. Whatever that means. I’m a bit old school for these southern types. Mostly spend my time in the Shield Mountains or up by Kundaraak. We usually don’t have time for this frippery up there.”

The barmaid returned and placed a clay flagon and two chipped cups in the middle of the table. She looked hard at Corwin and pulled out two copper bits, dramatically placing both in front of him before curtseying and flouncing off to pretend to sweep up again.

“Performance like that should be on a stage somewhere.” Jabez barked a laugh while pouring himself an ale from the flagon. Corwin followed suit, taking a long drink of the watery, sour stuff. It was definitely cheap, and he was having his doubts whether it was worth the paltry amount he’d just paid. Jabez drained his cup in one long draft. Wiping his lips and belching loudly he turned his gaze back to Corwin. “So, are you going to tell me which mark you earned from your local constables or am I going to have to guess?”

Corwin slowly lowered his cup. “I thought that didn’t matter in the Guild? Pasts erased and all that.”

“Well you ain’t in the Guild yet.” Jabez grunted. “As you saw they don’t take just anybody. If you want my help, then let’s see it.”

They sat staring at each other for a moment. The dwarf’s coal-black eyes seemed to burrow into Corwin’s soul. Corwin needed help, that was for certain, and he had just spent his last coin trying to buy it from the only person who had shown any interest. He supposed he should come into this honestly. A few moments fumbling and the bandage fell away. The skin was still raw beneath, the angry red welt of the brand was healing. They had put a poultice on it to make sure it did not fester, no sense punishing a man and then letting him die of infection.

“I’m fuzzy on the marks this far south.” Jabez muttered, pouring himself another cup from the flagon. “But that looks like theft of the King’s property and…maiming of a citizen? Is that right?”

Corwin nodded, trying not to look at the brand.

“Huh, so I’m guessing you and your buddies tried to rob a tax collector and things didn’t go so well.” Jabez said, taking another long drink. “But it wasn’t your idea, and you probably flipped on the rest of the crew which is why you got the brand and not the noose.”

“Something like that.” Corwin said. “Can I cover it back up?”

“Not yet.” Jabez mused, swirling his ale. “I’m also guessing that either some of your buddies escaped, or they got sent out to Kas Molag, so that’s why going home isn’t an option. Not only have you got law trouble but there’s some knives out there that are looking to take some revenge. That sound about right?”

“I thought I was supposed to be telling you my troubles.” Corwin muttered.

“Easier this way.” Jabez snorted. “Spares me hearing whatever story you concocted to make yourself look better. All right cover that thing up before someone in here calls a constable to get you run out of town.”

Corwin did as he was told. His cheeks were flushed, not just from shame, though he had had that in spades. Now he also felt that burning well of anger that had bubbled up when the Guild Masters had dismissed him out of hand. “Now what, you going to give me some lecture on morality? Going to tell me to mend my ways and then maybe, maybe if I’m good enough you might let me into your club?”

Jabez slowly lowered his cup, considering. “I might could do that. I could send you out into the world with some harsh words after drinking your ale. But that would make me as bad as those arrogant shits this morning. We’ve all got baggage, Corwin, and I’m no exception. But it is what we do with those experiences that matters. ‘Cause if I teach you, if you travel with me and fight beside me, and your thoughts go back to robbing folk on the road and cutting ‘em up.” The dwarf’s eyes went hard. “Then I’ll put you down like any other bandit.

Corwin swallowed hard but held Jabez’s gaze. “I’m no bandit. It was stupid and I’m paying for it now.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Jabez said, finishing off his ale. The dwarf gave Corwin another appraising look, and after a moment he seemed to come to a decision. “We’ll do this the old way. Finish your drink and tip the girl.”

“That’s all I got left.” Corwin protested.

“Well if your gonna start a brand-new life, Corwin Walker. Then maybe you ought to start clean.” Jabez said, quaffing his drink and heading for the door. “It’s symbolic or some shit, purity of the soul. Also you ain’t got a lotta options right now, kid. Now don’t dawdle.”

Corwin stared after the retreating back of the dwarf.

“You want to join the Guild or not?” Jabez called over his shoulder.

Hurriedly, Corwin swallowed the dregs from his cup and slammed his last two bits on the table. The last of the money his mother had given him. She had followed him out to the road when Jack had slammed the door on him. The small purse she had pressed into his hands had been light, and he knew that it represented almost all the family had left after paying the constable’s fine.

“Survive.” She had said, eyes red, but no longer crying. “The world is going to try and break you. Don’t let it.”

Then she had turned back to the farmhouse, shutting the door without ever looking back.

Corwin stood straighter and followed Jabez out into the bright morning sun.